I'll tell you a secret...

LET ME REVEAL to you my most embarrassing of secrets. It happened when I was 16 and staying on a campsite in Belgium. This Lithuanian gypsy girl who looked "like Madonna" (Madonna was a huge star at the time)... anyway THAT should be enough to sucker anyone who follows me into logging in for a good read.

Now on to the real business. Heroin! Please somebody help me start this heroin production line of mine. I need (off the top of my head) lots of charcoal biscuits, ether, acetone, ethyl alcohol, hydrochloric acid, calcium carbonate and of course acetic anhydride. And I want lessons in how to turn opium paste into high grade white heroin hydrohloride (no brown junk, please) and how to do it in my own back yard using portable camping stoves for heat. I know you simmer the morphine base in acetic anhydride at approx 85C for 5 hours... what then? The H3 to H4 bit I know in principle... advice please. And can anybody arrange for me 50 tonnes of H4 white on tick? I'm good to repay and don't care about getting gunned down.

Well my mediation vacation is going swimmingly. Only people who meet me think something is wrong so I'm writing as rationally as possible to fool y'all. I'm not hearing voices today. My mood is barely hypomanic. OK: slightly hypomanic, as we speak. Hypomania is MILD mania. Full-on mania is like being in an explosion of colours, sound and impressions. Exhilarating! Hypomania is like a few lines of coke.

I had a beautiful Natural Cocaine binge all last night. I was bingeing on my own free neurotransmitters by not taking medication and it felt wonderful. I slept 5 hours this afternoon (fitfully, it has to be said). I love sleeping, even for a few hours. The night before I slept over 11 and didn't want to be moved.

My mood is "cycling" that is I get mood swings lasting very approximately 24 hours to 7 days. High and low. The highs are like free cocaine as I say so no complaints there. They only get acid-trippy on the very extreme high. Naomi from the Dual Club says "you might be right" when I bitterly told her my symptoms get "severe" (by psyh standards: normal standards mean nothing, by normal standards I'm a huge fuck up anyhow so I don't bother with normality).

I went to Nutter Club but had to leave early due to a near panic attack. I really was not up for handling other people's negativity. So I got up abruptly said I needed fresh air and pinged out. Now Naomi is really worried about me. I was in dire straits yesterday and that was ON meds. Severe manic symptoms dampened weirdly down with weird repetitive voices in my head. I nearly had a panic attack in Sainsbury's. (No wonder you might say if you know Sainsbury's. A supermarket.) Yeah Naomi rang me for half an hour. She is very good. Never puts a foot wrong. Knows how to handle people in really precarious mental states. She was wonderful when I came in on full-on mania laughing my head off hysterically. Unable to string words together. Somehow through the clipped-up slideshow of the day, she shines out as a beacon of sense. I was too out of it on mania to follow what anyone said once they veered off the obvious. I was interrupting everyone all the time with my own thoughts and opinions.

Apart from Nutter Club what have I done?... Not a lot. Planning my Heroin Empire, mainly. I'm in a really good mood so I have energy for important stuff like international drug importation and production. I want to PRODUCE my product. The brand name is going to be WHITE TIGER with 100% written underneath and loads of shit in Burmese, Chinese and Thai hong-donging down the side. And before anyone DARES imply I'm raist let's have a Chinese and Thai language competition, you and me, and see who wins. Least I studied them. Bet you didn't.

PLEASE EVERYBODY HAVE A GO ON THE PERSONALITY PERCENTAGES DISORDER TEST. The link is here
http://www.similarminds.com/personality_disorder.html I gave my results in the post below. I score highest on schizotypal (eccentric), schizoid (don't need friends), borderline (over-emotional) and paranoid. The paranoia is definitely down to illness, I just do not have the unforgiving nature required for a "paranoid personality disorder" y'know?!

I'm v grateful that personality disorders shit is out of my life. I mean as if! I might have a bit of a schizzy personality but that only means I keep myself to myself and my primary motivation is not other's approval and that I do my own thing. That's all.

They thought I might have one because I basically had mental illness I had successfully semi-medicated away, creating a confusing clinical picture. My heroin worked about as well as risperidone as an antipsychotic mood stabilizer. It definitely worked. And no I do not suggest anyone try the same thing, I mean look what happened to me. I'm lucky to be nuts, means I get kid-glove treatment at that clinic now. If they mess me around I will show them 2 fingers and just score on the street. It's more a "when" than an "if". I was all for giving them the elbow when "severely manic" last month but everyone told me not to. I told a few people I had "anxiety and depression" and they believed me! "Not depressed now, are you!" said one as I burbled deliriously away. It was SUCH GOOD FUN whizzing around in the back of a car scoring heroin not using the dullardly heroin [they scored it; I didn't even know that dealer] (it reduces mania so why take something to get LESS high? Dur!) I was out of my box. Thinking we were off to some magnificent party, then remembering we weren't. Thinking all manner of things very rapidly it was fantastic.

This is what I love about being "mentally ill" the candy-colored hilarity of it all. It's much much better than any physical illness I can think of. I can't think of many physical illnesses that make you feel Better Than Well like manic bipolar does. Fair dos it can get ultra-ultra super concnetrated like whooshing into the centre of a spiral. Which is why Stephen Fry annoys me for making flip comments about a condition (bipola i) he doesn't have. He has bipolar ii which is quite different. The heritability of bipolar i is quite clear; bipolar ii is a mystery. Bipolar i comes in families with a clear history of depression, bipolar or schizophrenia. Bipolar ii doesn't. Bipolar i has funky bits (psychosis) bipolar ii doesn't. Bipolar i typically has 3 parts depression to 1 mania (time-wise); bipolar ii is 37:1. Different illnesses.

Sorry Baino to go on and on about my issues YET AGAIN but I'm confused about everything. I don't even know what schizoaffective really means apart from it being the luuuurve baby of manic depression and schizophrenia and being "more serious than bipolar disorder" and "less serious than schizophrenia". I heard the manic type has a better outlook for recovery than the depressive type. Stress makes me manic. So even if I'm depressed, when I have a psych appointment I'm ALWAYS hypomanic in there and that is not acting. I act exactly as I am in those interviews Im too sick and tired of mind games to do any different. Sometimes I wish I'd said YES to going into hospital, because Id probably be in there now if I did.

That is what I hate most about the mental health system I actually got desperate enough at one point to try "showing what they needed to see" which I thought was depression. So I never dared crack a smile, initiate any conversation or basically do anything except answer what wa put before me and get the hell out and quick. I also noticed I was getting asked a set of questions that didn't even apply to me. When I didn't hear voices I got asked all the time whether I did. Then once I did nobody ever asked about them! I felt like such a fraudster thanks to those DSM diagnostic criteria which are frankly nonsensical to anyone with depression lower than the higher end of "moderate". Moderate depression means the absolute fucking pits of suicidal hell. The top end of severe is staring into space for hours yet being able to break out of it and do things; the lower end means staring into space and only able to stop with egreat difficulty. You'll end up in the middle of the room, frozen, wondering how you got there and where you're going. Not through memory loss; through lack of motivation. Very severe depression is a complete stupor where you literally cannotmove or speak at all. It has nothing to do with playing a game or acting or resisting attention, you literally have nothing to say and so cannot move your lips to say this nothingness. Everything is utterly invalid, incomplete, inconsequential. As in mania where all is equally good, equally valid and you can go with anything, in depression I frequently end up in shops stuck. Not wanting to go home. Not wanting to buy anything. Not knowing what to buy. So I just do the bare essentials and get the hell out and go straight home and curl up in a ball again, like a little hammy in a nest. Hamter are schizzy and very spirited, jut don't cross one they get into raging fury and do bite. Pandable was my best hammy and he threatened to bite me every time I woke him up during the day. Only when he knew for sure it was my hand and me did he calm down and sniff around it (after food, the tubby swine!)

Now I can't recall where this was going. Tubby swines. Hammies. Good a place as any to stop.
I'm taking my meds tonight; I feel qutie confused wtihout them and my mood cycles fast, on a 24 hour cycle a in one day up one down; one up one down etc etc

EVERYBODY PLEASE DO MY PERSONALITY DIOSRDERS QUIZ AND LEAVE RESULTS IN COMMENTS!
http://www.similarminds.com/personality_disorder.html

Tut mir leid: I don't recall what I put in this post, I can't spend all night fretting over wordings, so it's going IN. Sorry if it's boring....

Schizotypal personality disorder link:
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0002493

Schizotypal wikipedia entry:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizotypal_personality_disorder

(I'm supposedly schizotypal; though on the friendship side I'm not SCARED of people, I just don't NEED them there. I do like people I just don't NEED them the way some other people seem to need companionship. So in that aspect I'm schizoid rather than schizotypal. Now come on somebody else take the test please y'all are pretty normal, I'd like to see how you come out of it!

Medication Vacation/Drugs Empire

I'M GIVING MYSELF an unofficial medication vacation to see what happens when I stop taking these meds. I nearly had a panic attack yesterday. VERY nearly. So they're not working. And I was hearing "voices" in my head saying eg "annoying" as annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyingingingingininginging" like that it's a type of clanging where you get stuck in the syllables of a long word (or a short one). It feels really strange I don't know entirely whether it's schiz or manic being as I have the luuuuurrve child of manic depression and schizophrenia I can't believe I got TWO THINGS WRONG wonkybonkytiddles wong with me how ridiculous is that. If I have a panic attack tomorrow I can take the shit in the day I just really don't want to. I had Valium; took 1; lost 2. Money goes walkies all the time. My dr said not handling money well even off drugs is a schiz symptom and I REALLY mean I cannot handle it. I go on manic spending sprees or just lose it. Absolutely no idea where it goes. You wonder why I want [wanted: I'm fed up of this suicide talk; this will be the last of it] to commit suicide you're all taken in by my ability to keep a blog going you don't see what a mess I'm in. A really really bad mess. The council want to sling me out on the street but they can't (apparently) because I'm too nut nut. I don't care at all what happens I honestly don't it was easier on the street, ironically enough. Though it also brought on a severe episode of illness. Severe for the time. I remember riding the bus and everybody had crosses in their eyes. I saw visions in the walls and heard things, every day. Today somebody yelled my name repeatedly from a car but I ignored him. I hear voices like that all the time so I ignore them. How am I to know when they're true? So I'm living without meds now, had enough of them, I want to get manic. Least I KNOW I'm not frying my brains even though it feels really brainfrying at the peak. The peak I got to was, as I say, like a road drill going through my head on acid. Ultra intense. But this is a feeling of energy and euphoria. Very very hard and strong. That's why I like music with an aggressive edge in this state because I feel aggressive and powerful. And I don't have time for shit from nobody. In the severe state I would just lamp someone as soon as look at them. I'm not a violent person but if someone pushed my button they'd getta smacka da face-a before they could say "geronimo"..!

I'm not manic now. Just a bit hypomanic. That feels like anxiety but in a good way. It's like positive mental energy coursing through me like amphetamines. I read a quote from that idiot Stephen Fry, who is type 2 bipolar (ie the mild but miserable subtype with 37 times more depression than hypomania; I'm type 1 the full-blown type)... he opined on his QI show that only hardcore manic-depressives go on lithium. Hang on a sec he is lucky to have bipolar so slightly he doesn't even need meds. If you've seen that "secret life of a manic-depressive" he made he's by far the mildest case on there. His "hypomania" looks faked-up to me. Far too little speediness and far too much jolliness. He actually looks drunk more than manic. Mania is FAST, it amps out energy like an electric fire or a huge burning light bulb. You can feel the energy of a manic person, just as you can feel heat from a fire. His depression looks real enough, but the mania, in my view is strictly "for camera". And he hasn't a clue how intense mania can get. He says manic depressives are lucky because at least they have the ups of mania. How intense can mania get? EXTREMELY INTENSE. That's why I cried when I saw the deer in The Deer Hunter. The poor thing is FOAMING AT THE MOUTH. I thought what does that poor animal have to go through to get so wound up it is FOAMING? Whatever it felt was INTENSE. I just hope the bastard film-makers put it down quick. They had no qualms about animal cruelty when that film was made. Mania is INTENSE. And that's why I cried for that animal. Because we both know INTENSE.

I'm just glad what I had was intense mania not intense suffering. When I do go down I tend to think I'm in a spiritual wilderness rather than a true Depressive State. I spend hours staring into space. Last time the TV semi-conked-out and I didn't notice for 2 days. Somehow I collected methadone in this state but don't remember. They are used to me behaving strangely and are very sarcastic. I think they can fuck off. If they take the piss then I will ******* ** **** I am fed up of people taking the piss.

I'm coming off my methadone as quick as I can I am fed up of the clinic taking control of me they want to run my life. I feel sorry for the poor worker who probably thought he was taking on a normal case when he's taking on a grade A nut job. Did you know 25% of all people who are psychotic are schizoaffective. It's probably 50% schizophrenia and the rest bipolar. I found out my suicide risk is only 1 in 10. Bipolar is meant to be 1 in 5. Maybe it's because I get more free entertainment off my "illness" than a bipolar person would.

It means I get more funky bits, which they only get when ultra-manic, I get voices when just hypomanic or depressed. Depressed is harder to deal with because I disengage. Manic I thoroughly indulge in when alone. Pottering about. Outside I have to REALLY watch myself and button down. Even then I'm radiating manic energy like a psychiatric beacon. I remember the look on the police's face when I walked right up to them. I don't know whether I was meant to miss the OBVIOUS NUDGE-nudge but it was BLARING I only wanted directions to the main road.

I have to blog this for when I die I want my family to cash in £££ if I die they get more dollars because the crap I have written has a publicity value. It's my wish that any revenue from my intellectual property be split entre ma mere, mon pere et mes deux freres sorry there's a French film on it makes me think in French. I'm watching Un Prophet encore il s'agit dans un prison francais ou les prisoniers sont gangsters de la Corse et cetera ok i'm dropping the French now. I can't believe I recall that phrase "il s'agit" (it takes place) and that a director is called a metteur en scene. See I do know some French. It's just vraiement terrible; pardon: vraiment terrible ~ pas de l'"E" I love the double-clanger french quotation marks like this «O» or even funkier »O« ~ German styleee.

Now what was I babbling on about. That Frantic screen is playing but I hate the footage. Love the music but they all look like kids. Lollypops, dummies, no thanks. A dummy is a pacifier.

Hey they're taking heroin on telly. Got a real good gauwch on. Just as I'm getting a good rush on. I'm rushing nicely off my meds.... yummmmyummmmyummmm. why the FUCK should I take something to bring me down. I am just glad I don't have money. My Mum rang me today to find out what was wrong with me... I just blurted it out. She knows someone who is bipolar who lost everything thanks to a bad business investment when manic. Im so glad I don't have money to lose, then I really would kill myself.

Does anyone want to take part in a poppy farming scheme? I need 50,000 acres, Ideally in America or somewhere sunny. Does anyone live in the highlands of Iran, Turkey or Afghanistan who wants to come in with me to make H4? I want to be trained up as a full-on heroin chemist. I would love to work in an H4 lab with the Wa, the Burmese tribe who now control "China White"... ask Valerie. She says her Double UO Globe is doing terrific business. She is too off her tits on crack to write much these days...

Also would anyone be willing to smuggle me over 50,000 kilos of China White? Please do it in one shipment I want no fucking about. I'll be the crime boss, you can all get the scrapings off the lab floor.

Actually I might seriously go into heroin production that would be such FUN. A product I believe in..!!!!!! China white, babes.

By the way anyone who DARES ship out brown from my refinery will get Death by 1000 Cuts, no messing. I'm only gonna be known for high grade shit. My brand name will be White Tiger 999. I'll ship in 1.4 kg (double unit) blocks. Yummy big blocks of A grade white heroin! Anna Grace do you wanna come in with me as my American connexion. I want to supply Chicago, New York, Boston, Washington, Philadelphia, Los Angeles... fuckit I will flood America with my evil brands! UK watch out you don't know what is going to hit you. The shitty stuff will be called Trotterdonkey Brand, it will have a donkey with sombrero on the bales, in tacky turquoise ink. The shit stuff is coming to Britain as Brits will take any crap heroin wise. That's why they were on BROWN sugar for so long. Ukhhh.

Hey I have got a real adrenaline rush going here. I'm so full of schemes and plans for my New Drug Mafia. I will Rule the World in Narcotics. Once I take over Afghanistan and Colombia-Peru-Bolivia I'll have a monopoly on heroin and coke. I'll expand into ecstasy and designer shit as well as yucky cannabis. And I'll crank out crystal meth like nobody's business. The HUGE market for cryssie is in Europe. Those middle class parents won't know what's hit them as their kids become bug-eyed monsters picking at skin, painting walls, ripping up books, getting rid of ants and dirt that doesn't exist.

YES AND ALL THIS IS A FANTASY for anyone who takes me TOO FUCKING SERIOUSLY HONESTLY!

Right I'm off.

PS Drugs Empire ideas in comments. Quickly! Please.

Do mafia bosses say please? OK then fuck you!

And NO I AM NOT ON DRUGS I AM A MANIC DEPRESSIVE SCHIZOAFFECTIVE NUTCASE OK!?!

GET WELL SOON ANNA GRACE IF YOU'RE READING... Anna is probably in hospital with manic depression.

Illustrated: my mountainous China White Empire; gear to Aus; gear to Europe NOT ENOUGH COMES FROM BURMA in my humble view. I don't need it for myself but others do so I shall make multiple millions from their misery. (Someone has to.) I'm going to stick these maps on my walls full of map pins and post-it notes to make them look really important when the council come round and say "plan your drug smuggling operations elsewhere" and I'll say "I'm a heroin producer and importer not just a master smuggler"..!

0515 I should really go to sleep; but I'm too excited!

0641 Schizzoaffective quiz! See how you do. I got 20/24... oops

0739 I love these tests (personality disorders test)! I just found out I'm ~
paranoid: high
schizoid: high
schizotypal: very high
antisocial: low
borderline: moderate
histrionic: low
narcissistic: moderate
avoidant: high (I'm very avoidant, it's my new favourite word, it means you don't do anything that makes you feel SHIT)
dependent: moderate
obsessive-compulsive: moderate

eh I've found another one, a personaltiy disorders test. Im determined to get myself one. They're this season's hot psychiatric accessory. Especially in blue...
My results: paranoid 78%; schizoid 86%; schizotypal 90%; antisocial 46%; borderline 78%; histrionic 30%; narcissistic 42%; avoidant 42%; dependent 38%; obsessive-compulsive 66%... so I'm really schizotypal ie eccentric and don't give a flying fuck what anyone thinks of me! Big wow. Big revelation that one. How perceptive.


1749 come on take the 2nd test, with percentages and gimme your results in comments. all psychopathology will be treated in strictest confidence. many thanks.

A really cool email

I GOT A FIRST CLASS EMAIL earlier on. From the daughter of a murdered prime minister after a coup d'état in West Africa; she has $8.5 million US inheritance and demands MY ASSISTANCE to get it. I haven't done the reply yet for African email #2, when I get hit for dosh but I'm playing along. I think I will ask HER to help me with a small investment of 2kg best China White heroin plus a token payment of $4 million from the funds she already has. Thank you very much. And I don't promise to pay anything back. This is a donation I'm asking for, not a loan. Actually make it 10kg pure white heroin (brown will be returned by first post (ha! as if!!)) 10kg should last 10 years if you went at it in moderation. I mean I could easily use 2.5g+ in a day without a 10kg stash eating at my attention. At old purities that's 1000mg diamorphine. No wonder methadone wouldn't hold me! I really need 20kgs to be all right. Or 30. Or 40. See why I never went into drug smuggling?

I would never mule for anyone else, no matter how cherry-dripping the offer. Only for my own personal lifetime use. And it must be white H4. No brown crap.

No amount I ever brought over would be enough and I'd need an industrial trolley just to get it across the airport foyer. No way would I supply another with heroin. And I'd only go through countries with guaranteed death penalty for heroin exporters. I wouldn't expect anyone to believe my true story of why I was into heroin trafficking (to feed myself with the pure white heroin I brought back from Burma) which is why I won't get involved. I don't care about dying. I couldn't live with someone taking a lifetimes supply of heroin off me. That would kill me before any firing squad got round to it. (Firing squad with every gun loaded: my favoured method of execution.) If I ever got life in a foreign prison I'd demand a legal review for death. Or just pay someone else to strangle me. (And you think I'm joking? I've read a Thailand prison memoir! I know. Singapore is much better: you get death. As in China. They hanged/shot someone with bipolar disorder so China and drug smuggling sound very attractive to me.

Now back to my email, PLEASE any suggestions for choice phrases to go in. I must be just about believable and totally credulous. PLEASE HELP ME WIND UP SOME INTERNATIONAL FRAUDSTERS.

Please help. I have a west African princess at my disposal. How much should I ask HER for? Really it must be more than one million. Shame her "inheritance" is only 8.5 million US. I could do with 50 million UK myself. Need it to buy a house. Houses in London are VERY expensive. It must be double-fronted. Ideally Knightsbridge within 5 mins walk of Harrods. Or Mayfair, walking distance of Bond Street. Knightsbridge would be far better as Harrods is the best shop in the world. No racks and racks of boring women's clothing like the worst ones. Just stuff stuff stuff, really good stuff. Their hifi dept is second to none.

Now I must off: WIND-UP EMAIL IDEAS, PLEASE!

PS I'm getting a couple of free clonazepam later in the week ~ whooooh!

PPS I'm thinking of giving my medication a miss tonight. I could do with a little mania. I need to clean my house.

Anyway I don't see why I should take a fucking pill just to be half-sane.

MAMA MIA: DON'T GO WASTING YOUR EMOTIONS
doncha love that that blue bedroom wall?



EARTH SONG
I like the musical phrase when he sings "did you ever stop to notice?..."
that's "inspiration" in the notes



MJ: BLOOD ON THE DANCEFLOOR
I love the clonk-clonk in this




Illustrated: beyond-the-pale brown; proper white heroin. And that's a miserable portion of B they're putting in the little bowl: 7g IF THAT. Ukk.

Anna Grace

MY FRIEND ANNA in Wisconsin is depressed. She is back on the gear after quite a long break during which she transferred from methadone to Suboxone (buprenorphine/naloxone). She felt nowhere near as good on Suboxone as on methadone. Now as I say she's back on gear. What took her back was a daytrip to a large town where she picked up a $20 bag. Now she's spending $50 a day. Anna is on mood-swing meds but they don't seem (in my view) to be helping the way they should.

All this is detailed on her blog. The other day she posted up a song for me "I wanna sink to the bottom with you". We were supposed to do a China White binge in New York City. What's stopping me, apart from lack of money is 1 that I really want to go to NYC and don't want to mess up my chances of a proper visa and 2 I'm off heroin anyway. Even China White (though I hate to admit that little nugget.

China white is proper heroin. Afghan brown and tar are glorified scum drugs. China white is refined scum. I'd rather be refined when I'm being scummy ~ hence the white H4 fascination. Number four China White heroin is up to 97% purity at manufacture whereas brown H3 is rarely over 74% and China White doesn't need nasty fruit acids in the mix. It's already gone in an acid bath and has a fairly neutral PH. A hit of acidified brown has a PH of 2.55* or lower. Ie it's ridiculously acid. No wonder it erodes veins.

I was looking at my foot the other day when I suddenly had a feeling of peace and serenity as I told myself something I wish I could have thought ~ and meant ~ a long time ago: "You don't have to stick this with a needle ~ ever again". I don't want heroin in my life. Heroin did the best job of anything ~ bar depression ~ of destroying me. So I don't want heroin. I wish Anna didn't want it either.

ANNA GRACE this track is for you. I wasn't going to post up any old rubbish to return your musical favour. So here's a tune after my taste for you. I don't know any guitar music, I'm afraid...

REFLECT Feat. Delline Bass - Need To Feel Loved (Adam K & Soha Mix)(Arcdsa Videoremix)



FOUNTAINS OF WAYNE: SINK TO THE BOTTOM live 2003




Illustrated: Top: By appearance, Afghan brown H3 vs Burmese China White H4. Though being as this picture is American these may actually be Mexican Brown and Colombian White. Bottom: the type of heroin Anna is on is Colombian White, which is often grey, like this stuff ...


*ATTENTION any European heroin users. As a scientific experiment at the University of Bath, 130mg of 75% pure brown #3 heroin base was cooked up with 20mg citric acid; the resulting concoction had a pH of 2.55; when the entire sachet was added, the pH went down to 1.9 ~ from pretty acid to REALLY acid. Adding extra citric just damages veins. The 9 minutes long "How Much Citric?" Video is here.

ACEN: CLOSE YOUR EYES (Remix I) (Optikonfusion!)
this 1992 track has every ingredient of an anthem of the time; the eerie backdrop, talk of insanity and a euphoria you actually felt from the E more than the tune!

Valerie Intervenes

VALERIE, HOUSEWIFE FRENCH-MANICURED BOUFFANTED CHINA WHITE HEROIN PRODUCER AND TRAFFICKER EXTRAORDINAIRE IS GIVING ADVICE TO POOR ANNA GRACE IN MIDDLE AMERICA. ANNA IS IN LOVE! HERE'S THE NEWS:

January 27, 2011 6:09 PM
Valerie said...


Anna Darling

Are you sure you want a photo of that motherfucker? He's ugly as sin. Turned up to our halloween party I said "oh what an imaginative costume!" as I irritably answered the door (presses the doorbell 300 times in 2 mins that one) then the bastard points to this enormous sports bag and says "nah this is just me, costume's in here" and it was. I had in me violet contact lenses so I couldn't see clear but it was him. Ugly as fuck, you know!

Now babes what is wrong with you? Obsessing over that idiot in London. I'm sending you over 2 pots of dilaudid so you can forget all about him. I know you prefer the lovely neat stuff my drugs lab in Western Aus cooks up. This one's particularly yummy. I've got some weirdo Panda Brand heroin I'm trying to get rid of. This one "makes everything look sparkly" and gives severe diarrhoea. Do you know anyone who'd like a couple of keys. I know 2kg is barely worth couriering over but seriously I could do with every penny I can get at the moment.

Locked up in this dive, it's awful. Ho Ling's in a piss with me. It's to do with her vagina-cum-stashbox as usual. She wants more and more of that yummy 999 Brand we're currently on. Double UO Globe's out till your Mr Kim's finished doing his job on that 100kgs brown.

Magic Monkey is going like wildfire across the north of this country. Rabbit brand, that's the crap. We send that to Tasmania. They're all crazy down there anyhow. New Zealand is currently on Stripper Brand. Stripper is a new one I invented with Ho Ling's legs in fishnets. I spent ages sketching the artwork before passing it to me lawyer. My lawyer is the only legal representative I know who also arranges artwork on 1.4kg heroin bricks!

Now where was I going with this. Oh that scummy Gledwood. Please darling be careful with that one. There's more to that muddy puddle than meets the eye, I'm sure of that. He's only fun on drugs or that potty mental condition of his.

Oh shit I've got to go, Ho Ling's bashing Trish over the head with a dinner tray. Must I play headmistress every day?

Screws don't mind me using the Blackberry at dinnertime now. Everybody knows I'm Queen B in here so I walk along using me mobile phone in front of everyone, slap Lynn, our Pocket Warder on the arse and call the Governor "Darling". The girls think I'm wonderful!

Oh shit, really gotta go. Ho Ling's just done Trish with a fork and there's blood...

... take care baby. Keep away from scum!

Val

XXXXXXX

Away Day Return

MESSED UP DR APPOINTMENT: something went wrong re the dr's appointment between me, my family, my worker, the dr, and the time but I've got another for later today so no harm done. I had to pick up a methadone script for next week anyhow. And I saw some nutters I know. And some junkies I know. Nutter-junkies are the best. Only type I truly understand.

Where me and normal junkies go off at tangents is in lifestyle as there was no way I was barging into shops every single day, multiple shops per day, stocking up, hiding it all in alleys and bins and hoping no other bastard shoplifter or tramp runs off with it all, then when all that's done having to sell the crap, probably feeling tired and your lovely customers being able to read how desperate you are (not that I've ever "sold stolen goods" but say, hypothetically, that I did it as a favour for someone else; then that someone would have been really surprised at how much cash I got, as I came in daisy-fresh and got money for their toothpaste and shampoo (when I didn't know it shocked me just how humdrum these shoplifted items are! I thought addicts nicked nice stuff. Not coffee, headache pills and razors! Another thing that shocked me was realizing that stuff on sale in small shops was often shoplifted from bigger shops, sold on at less than wholesale. The kind of shop that would go nuts if you got caught nicking from THEM, the hypocrites!) anyway shoplift thing over... what was I on about. O yeah

here's a point (at last)

how can I possibly know how much another person suffers? How good or bad they feel? That's (part of) what stopped me thinking I was clinically depressed when I was. Not having a point of comparison, even among people I hung out with and/or knew very well. As everyone's personal hell is their own, y'know...

Well I SLEPT 8 HOURS which was lovely. From about 6:30 to 2AM. OK probably 7 and a bit all told, and that... does it make up for last night's hardly any sleep? I dunno. I got up at 2am last night after taking the zopiclone late so I can't have got much more than an hour and a half sleep. I write down my sleep for this diary thing I WAS doing properly. Or going to to. You ALL won't remember; someone will.

O I hate going to doctors to describe how I am not how some physical ailment is affecting me. That's a headfucker if you think about it. Doesn't psychiatry mean "care for the soul". Does my soul need caring for? Shouldn't I myself do the caring? What can a headshrinker actually do for me? Apart from write down their medicalized version of how and who I am and think about prescribing drugs of their own. While telling me not to take ones obtained for FAR TOO MUCH MONEY from bastards on mountain bikes.

My phone is full of desperate text messages telling how THEIR gear is the best how one "runs" amazingly even though I'd never in a zillion years SMOKE THE CRAP. Unless it's H4 [for injection] I'm not in the remotest bit interested. H4 is pure white heroin hydrochloride. China White is still heroin. Heroin is shit. I wouldn't actually take heroin. But enjoy the oblique "your wares are shit" dig. Plus being way more knowledgeable than the idiot selling it. Surely if you're retailing you wanna know your product? But they don't. Hence the absolute SKANK sold during the worst part of this ongoing drought....

Khhh. My worker listened very closely when I described having once given up caffeine and cigarettes. Caffeine for more than a year. Cigs for at least 6 possibly as long as 9 months. And the mental persuasion entailed in dumping nicotine. My point was I was so intensely addicted to heroin none of that ever worked on me. Heroin was as intertwined round my soul as anything ever has been. Total and utter addiction. Never again!

And yes I do need to remember this. I'm the sort of bastard who doesn't recognize the same landscape in summer and winter. Message to self:~ Seasons change. No heroin in any season. Thank you.

I was so knackered today. I actually came down to the ground in the morning. Like coming home after a wild an whacky holiday (Vacation you Americans! Not Xmas hols)... yeah an adventurous holiday. Imagine sunning yourself on a beach on Ko Phi Phi, which is said to be sublime, somehow the walls of your own living room impinge into this scene and a sun-lounger turns into your own chair. Wow! Then I had a bit of coffee to get me through both these appointments and I was flying yummily again. On less coffee than most people take to get to Work!!! How amazing is that. Free illegal drugs in my coffee. Wow. Anyway I was so tired I was zombified on the outside, bizzy-buzzing on the inside. Which meant whenever anybody asked me a question I suddenly sprang to life and wouldn't stop rabbitting. Then stared into space again: wearied close to exhaustion. That's why I slept so very long, and it did feel like 18 hours, not just under 8... like when you wring out a sponge and wring and wring more and more water so I got all the sleep out of me I could. A nice good long lie in. Getting up early AM. Yeah I know it's stupid. It's also fantastic not to be addicted to sleep any more. Not the way I was. Not struggling to function on 10, 12, 14, 16 and even more hours. Get my attitude to sleep now? It hits me like a disease and I can't function through exhaustion, depression and sheer ukkhhh-ness. THIS is why I have a rave, an ongoing party when suddenly I'm OK, don't need DAYS of sleep don't need don't want get rid of my old shitty life... ukk. Live on fresh air! That's the ideal. Like a sky blue flower aginst a blue sky. Blue into infinite sunny blue and cool fresh air. I'd love to live in Switzerland, wouldn't you? OK I'm gonna leave it there else this will never get finished.

RESTFUL CLASSICAL MUSIC. OK the restful is sarcasm. Sometimes I am sarcastic you know. E.g. when I asked would a caramel cadbury's creme egg set me off hyper. I'm not the kind to get high off a red smartie you know. And as for caffeine... all it used to do was give insomnia and anxiety. Never got high off that cept when I was on Prozac or naturally high anyway (not drug high).

MOZART: REQUIEM TRANCED UP



MOZART: LACRIMOSA (IE SAME PIEC) TECHNOD DIFFERENTLY
oh man: well you might like it, I'm saying nothing about this one



EVANESCE: (MOZART'S) LACRIMOSA
OK we're starting to go down a blind alley with this one but here:
05:04 finally got this to play properly: what an oppressive dirge! doesn't suit my mood at all. I far prefer that On With the Story Higher than the Eiffel track (look for a tiny little box, shrunken youtube screen last Sunday) for clish-clashing waves of music. Does anybody like this?:~~~~~



Illustrated: I was trying to find bindweed to illustrate heroin and me and that's the flower ~ WHAT AN AMAZING COLOUR BLUE! The bottom shows what bindweed actually does, view from a beach, Ko Phi Phi (Thailand) which is pronounced "pea pea"

Valerie's Prison Diary

AUSTRALIA'S "CRUELLY IMPRISONED" HOUSEWIFE CHINA WHITE QUEEN, major supplier of Heroin to all of Down Under including New Zealand, has been tapping those blackberry keys in the direction of Anna Grace, her "partner in international narcotic crime"! Part of what she's doing is thanking Anna for a 6-kg "loan" of Colombian White Heroin. Here's the jizz:~

Valerie said...
Anna, Sweetness

Are you seriously after a bare-ass spanking? Me with my pingpong bat? Post some new revelations from the Dark Side of the Gear Spoon.

Listen honey you're doing that poor little mite Gledwood's head in here. Every fucking message that tosser writes comes up on MY blackberry now how wires got that badly crossed I haven't a clue, now it won't stop chirping at me all hours like a deranged cicada!

Well it's all news from here in Sydney Women's Punishment Centre. We're being punished so severely we're off our tits on China White and Crack. Constantly. At least I am, as I'm the Fucker in charge here.

Ho Ling is Dealer to the Stars. She actually shots the deals out. Fat Trish holds on to a lot of shit that isn't stored in Ho-Ling's filing cabinet of private parts. Do you know she even seems to have BOOK SHELVES up there..??! You say "listen honey, here's the gear, here's the crack, here's the sleepers, here's the whacko stuff (got in a few designer drugs to perk up our Dull as Dishwater evenings)... say "oh Sweetness, 2 pieces H, one crack, a rohypnol and a Blue Mystic and there they are before you can say "cockadoodle-do!" she's produced 'em from her "tuppence". That's what me old ma used to call me private parts when I was little. Ho Ling can carry several million units of LSD from a minor European country to here in that Wonderworld of hers, but she's very angry I even suggest the idea so THAT one's out (till Ho Ling's desperate for a year's constant supply China White heroin + yummy coke!)

Now Baby on to your shit. Honey you're back using again; shit happens.

Are you really unhappy about it? Or just unhappy being slammed for telling us?

January 24, 2011 6:54 PM

Valerie said...
That might make a one of those delicious posts of yours. Your attitude to heroin. Mine goes: take as much as you possibly can each and every day. Life's too short. Cracked off ya tits feels wonderful. Which is why when I'm at home with Brucey the little darlings actually live in a separate dwelling next door with their Chinese nanny. Takes the stress off our constant piping if ya know what I mean.

Plus it gives us REALLY WELL EDUCATED kids: they're fluent in Chinese!

Barely speak a word of English, mind. Chinese they can do marvellously well. So the future of Double UO Globules for future generations of Australian fuck-ups looks pretty wonderful.

Thanks for the six kilos Colombia's best Poppy Power. I'll reimburse ya with 10 units 999 or Double Lion, take ya pick. 10 units is seven keys so I'm giving you one extra honey-buns.

Your Mr Kim is doing extraordinarily well, pottering innocently about in that minefield-protected hut, humming incomprehensible Singaporean Chinese pop songs as he effortlessly transforms dodgy H3 into yummy A Grade China White Heroin!

I've had a little taste. A few tastes even and darling: Best Batch we've had in ages!

Thank you so much.

And re that $25 million US don't worry. I'm 17 million euros better off thanks to a little scheme I'd better not get too into here. Something to do with an Ecstasy Factory in a former Soviet Republic making an absolute fortune for ME ME ME ME ME!!!

They don't call me Queen of E for nothing (let alone China White!!)

Now I'm off for fucking lunch with 3 bitches who hate me. Something to do with my having gone for one with a certain sawn-off domestic implement and having told the other two they'd wait for later.

The Governor's being Real Nice to me these days since that half mil US in bribe dollars hit her offshore account. Finally the bitch is stressing less. Less stress for her means less stress for me. She's even letting me browse the old WWW from her swivel chair when she's home for the night (which is a sadly late hour, often past 10pm since the sad fucker hasn't a life).

Now Anna post some delicious details of your funky life. For me. For that fucker Gledwood if you have to. For yourself to "say where you've been" as Gledster puts it. (Been in too much counselling that one: know that bullshit when I hear it.)

Now on with the story Sweet Pea. On with the story. On on on.

WE'RE WAITING!!

xOxOxOx

January 24, 2011 6:54 PM

From one international narcotics trafficker to another

VALERIE: "RESPECTIBLE" BOUFFANTED FRENCH MANICURED HOUSEWIFE SUPERSTAR DRUG SUPPLIER has been in touch with Anna Grace, her "international narcotics smuggling" friend. Here's the highly confidential prison email:


Valerie said...
CONGRATULATIONS on being back on drugs baby!

Anna my darling, I know you pull this piss-poor act so we all don't know your heiress lifestyle you actually pay for by international heroin importation (she supplies NYC with Colombian White Heroin the cow! Anna and I have come to blows. Rather gunshots between rapidly driving past cars) once or twice. Now we're best buddies.

Anna Baby could you see it in your heart to send us a coupla keys BEST QUALITY.

Thanks darling. I'll pay ya soon as this prison thing's sorted out.

Brucie's dealing dealing dealing away China White to Sydney, Melbourne, Perth, Darwin, Wellington and Christchurch and everywhere in between. In other words that's all of Australia and New Zealand.

But we fell out big time over a little genital warts issue. As you might know.

That FUCKING BITCH DOWN THE MILK BAR.
That scummy cow. Now they're popping out here there everywhere!

Ho Ling seems to like them; something to nibble on. But that's her thing.

Me, I want them GONE!

See ya later baby. High on crack, me! Off me tits on China White!!!!

Out of the punishment block BACK TO REALITY

yeah baby!!!

PS explain how i can be on china white yet need your best colombian later. it has to do with me getting one up on that Bastard Bruce

take it EZ and don't wait too long to do something about rehab (if you're into that SHIT!!!!!)

January 20, 2011 11:39 PM

Hamsters and Heroin and Chinese Food: a Polydrug Addiction

IT IS 07:13 in the morning. I didn't score yesterday until the evening when the urge for Chinese food possessed me like that naughty goblin who killed my hammies, nibbled through my computer cable, lost me my broadband dingle-dongle once and pulled out and scarpered off with the SIM-chip one other time.

So possessed was I by this naughty goblin who used to say to my best hammy "Pandable, ramble!" and he'd prance on his enormous 12" diameter rat-wheel and scuttle away from dusk till dawn every single night, that zombie-like I wandered in a trance to the Mongolian-Chinese takeaway.

Poor Pandable, my very best hammy lived to three-and-a-half ~ that's past 100 in hamster years. Early one morn when I had insomnia but Pandable was wideawake and healthily pinging like billy-o on his enormous wheel, I hid him in my pocket, took him out for a ramble amongst the dandelions in the unmown lawn of our old back garden. The dandelion-and-clover exotica was as tall as Pandable himself and his poppy panda-eyes were wide with amazement as he rambled carefully through the dense jungle foliage of our lawn. When the time came for him to go back to his nest he was most displeased. Back in his tank, he angrily shuffled his nest back and forth for three hours as if to say "I don't want to live in this cracked old aquarium any longer. I want to live in the garden, like natural hammies do in Turkey." What Pandable didn't understand of course was that in Syria and Turkey, where golden hamsters originate from, the tubby rodents are predated by owls and foxes and wild cats and other birds of prey and are endangered species.
There are many more golden hammies of the species mesocricetus auratus in captivity than anywhere in the wild. As long as they have a nice BIG home (not a tiny one more suited to dwarf hamsters that many are lumbered with) and a proper big wheel that is NOT selfishly stopped up at night to stop the irritating rattling and squeaking, a hammy will be quite happy. Female hammies are apt to escape as they come on heat every four days. In golden hamsters, it's the female of the species who goes on the trek for a mate, hence the tendency of females, who are slightly bigger than the males to be exceedingly good escape artists, despite their tubby appearance and outwardly docile manner. Hamsters are extremely persistent at "worrying" the bars in their useless cages. Any structural weakness will be located and worked upon until escape is achieved. Another method that works wonderfully on the type of cage where bars are clipped over a plastic base is to angrily nibble at the bars all night ~ which they only do when bored for lack of toys of a selfishly stopped up wheel. Eventually their nibbling pays dividends when the accumulated vibrations cause the entire top of the cage suddenly to ping off, and the intelligent tubby wastes no time in pinging to freedom,often to construct a burrow at the top of the stairs in one of your favourite houseplants.

Squeaky or rattly hamster wheels can easily be remedied with a drop of cooking oil. Not only does this silence the irritating night-long commotion, it also makes the wheel run far more smoothly, giving you a happy pet who's less likely to escape, burrow in your bonsai pots or set up a nice nest at the back of your sofa, the swines! A hamster should never be deprived of a wheel, except under veterinary advice where, for instance, running on one might aggravate an acute injury preventing healing. Young mothers sometimes run on their wheels to the neglect of their pups. Hammies love wheels!

How I got onto hamsters I've no idea, except that they ARE my favourite small animals. I relate to hammies as we share many characteristics. We both like our sleep and are bleary at best, enraged at worst, to be prematurely woken. Hamsters appear to be docile but ask any vet which small animal they dislike treating most and "hamsters" crop up time and again. Hamsters are NOT docile. When they lose their rag they do bite, but not normally without warning. When I used to wake up Pandable during the day with tasty titbits of Safeways chicken pie with petits pois, Pandable would gnash his teeth ~ literally chattering them as we might do when very cold ~ had I been stupid enough to try and touch him in his nest he no doubt would have bitten me HARD. A golden hamster can bite through a stick of chalk with ease. Occasionally when I woke him up he struck out poisonous-snake style, leaping at the shadow of my hand. For all he knew I was a hawk come to gobble him up for breakfast. Pandable didn't have a hammy-house; he had an enormous nest of print-free newspaper strips cut from the sides. These he would chew to his own satisfaction constructing the most enormous bed I've ever seen for an animal so tiny. Another characteristic Pandable and I shared. I have at least five or six quilts and about seven pillows and another five or so cushions. Ideally, when I'm organized, I construct an Arabian-nights-style nest with all this bedding on the go at once. Just like a giant hamster. If anyone dares knock on the door during a daytime snooze of mine fair enough I don't bite them, but I am very offhand indeed and my landlord's henchmen are usually intimidated into coming back later.

Now what got me onto Pandable bar the excuse to post up lots of hammy photos with this post?... O yeah ~ that naughty goblin's back, causing havoc in my life once more.

I didn't score any heroin at all yesterday, would you believe it! Out I went in search of the best Chinese takeaway I knew. This one also does Mongolian food and I was really in the mood for a mysterious Mongolian chicken curry. Guess what? That evil goblin had seen to it that the Mongolians had shut up shop! I was so furious I rang my heroin dealer without a moment's thought. Some idiot answered, the dealer's "cousin" as they like to call their partners in grime. Who am I? Where did I last meet him? Just round the corner yesterday and the day before you idiot (of course I never call my dealers idiots. Idiotic people tell me I should. This is all well and good if you want no dealers left. The particular person who keeps telling me to do this has multiple tales of being ripped off, whereas I don't. So who's doing something right, who's doing something wrong? I don't think it's me in the wrong. When you talk to dealers you have to be direct, to the point and not take any crap off them. Give those bastards an inch and they'll take a mile next time. You don't have to be rude and you certainly never tell one to **** off (at least I never do) no matter how bad you think you've been treated. Heroin is an addictive drug. You never know when you might need that particular dealer again in an emergency. Compared to the way certain individuals I knew got treated ~ one was sold an empty wrapper as crack, yet came back a second time to score! ~ I was always treated fairly and reasonably. I always paid the full price when I had money. It's people who think they're being clever, routinely handing £7.50 for a £10 bag who complain the service they receive is terrible and the bags tiny. You get what you pay for. When the bags were generous I always paid the full asking price (though you get discount: e.g. perhaps 2x£10 for £15 or 3 for £25. Again you're tending to get what you pay for, the 3 bags for £25 will tend to be more generous. The stingiest dealers will do 2x£20 or 4x£10 for £35. They should also do 5x£10 or 2x£20B+£10 crack for £40. 3x£20s are £50 in drugs mathematics. 4x£20s are £70 or £65 if you're lucky. 5x£20s should always be £80. 6x£20s should always be £100. You don't negotiate these prices, they're bog standard. Anyone charging more should be "shotting" genuinely enormous bags weighing 0.6, 0.7g and you should still get three of these for £55. I only had problems with dealers in the end when I wasn't such a good customer and the number of kids, who didn't know their trade had multiplied. Many were transparently out to get as much as they could as quick as they could, not comprehending that heroin is a longterm business. That's why it's such a good business to be in as a dealer. To be a good dealer you need to treat your customers with respect. Making less profit on bigger bags of good gear will make you more in the longer term as your punters will keep on and on coming back. The "alphabet" of Bs, Cs, Ds, Hs, Js and Ts ~ horrible little kids (19 year olds probably with no qualifications, no college, no job. They don't even know the job of heroin dealing. Say "China White" and they think you're stupid. "Coke comes from South America" one informed me. I rolled my eyes in despair and skulked off. When someone's that stupid I don't bother putting them right. Let them go on being ignorant. If they don't know their trade they have no respect from me. More than half the dealers I know I do not deal with as they fall into that Fast Buck Ignoramus category. It wasn't like this a few years ago. The handful of dealers I kept on my shortlist were with a single exception people I'd known for 5 to 10 years. It always amazes me that someone will whizz past on a mountain bike offering "candy". He can't even specify what type of "candy" is on offer, he wants me to say first so he can say "o yeah I go that" ... as if I don't know a ripoff when I see one. I never ever deal with an unknown (somebody none of my friends can vouch for) without a free sample bag up front. But even when these aren't ripoff merchants they're too stingy to make an investment that costs them a mere £5, which is what a £10 bag costs the dealer. If you treat a good B-punter well you can make hundreds of pounds a month not just from them but from all their friends as well. It was this deteriorating business culture, not to mention the Great Heroin Drought of 2010/2011, not to mention that I was truly and utterly FED UP of the entire thing that finally made me stop. How on earth I was idiot to start again I cannot explain.

As I said, I didn't score yesterday. I did ring the dealer in fury when I realized the Mongolian Chinese was shut, but the "cousin" who answered either didn't know me or affected not to. He wanted me to come ten minutes out of my way, which I did. But he unwittingly did me a huge favour. The road he specified had a Chinese takeaway I had yet to sample. I pinged indoors, grabbing a menu then phoning back saying where I was. He said "Come to the far end of the road." This I did. But then he started asking who I was again. He also claimed not to have the same B which had been good as gear goes these days, but that the new one was "better". Such words would inspire confidence ~ from a dealer I could trust ~ but this snottynosed-sounding kid inspired no such confidence. I pulled the takeaway menu out of my pocket. I had £20 in one hand ~ heroin costs £20 a shot these days. I used to hit up between £6.66 worth (yes highly symbolic, that's a third of £20) and £10. Now it has to be the entire £20 bag in one, else I'm wasting veins on something I can barely feel anyhow. And this guy's gear was described by Mr Public School as "nine out of ten". If that's a nine, I dread to think what a six or a seven might be!

Anyway I glanced over this menu, slavering at the thought of Chicken Curry Mix Vegetable Fry Rice and made a snap decision I'd never in my life done before. I switched off my phone and pinged up the road back to the Chinese where £6.20 bought me something I realized I was craving far more than any heroin. Then I trotted off back home and had a lovely meal with home-made tropical alcopops to boot.

My drinking's slowly reducing itself too, but I'm NOT obsessively counting cans, bottles, units. OK I know I'm drinking generally 3xhalf-litre cans of white cyder at 7.5% ABV. This is more than I ought to be drinking but with drugs out of the picture what's left. As I said before, and I wasn't pulling a "poor me" I was merely being factual. Heroin always held me together into one coherent person. Before heroin I was being told by my counsellor and my GP that I "needed more help than they could give me" that is the help of a psychiatrist. My previous experiences with psychiatrists had been disastrous. When he prescribed Haloperidol I was told the pills "might cause some muscle stiffness". Next morning as I was ambling up the road to my counselling appointment I suddenly became unable to walk. I made it across the road to a pharmacy where I explained what I'd been prescribed. The pharmacist rang an ambulance at once. I was carted into Accident and Emergency writhing in agony with "a severe dystonic reaction" (in other words, parkinsonian symptoms) and given intavenous procyclidine, an anti-parkinson's drug and a stern note to the psychiatrist reprehending him never again to prescribe such noxious substances. The psychiatrist addressed me with a blank look (no apology) and wrote out a script for something with fewer "extrapyramidal side-effects". For a long while before the opiate habit got me, I realized I felt like a jigsaw puzzle with a piece missing. Sometimes the missing piece reappeared only for another to go astray. I could never put my finger on what was happening. This seemed to be a problem; because of it, I was never able to get my life together.

Without heroin I become incoherent once more. Regular readers will remember my posting on this topic some days ago. I got a comment from an Anonymous suggesting (as I saw it) that a little too much self-pitying navel-gazing was going on. But this is to miss my very point. There's little if any point in the kind of solipsistic self-analysis of which I felt accused if "you", whoever "you" are, will never add up as a complete person. I don't mind this. It doesn't hurt as such. But it does cause a lot of issues coping with life on life's terms. What an irony that heroin, widely labelled the most destructive of all drugs, actually kept me together so well that in my long and involved psych assessment with the nurse I barely mentioned this, believing it had been a youthful phase I'd simply grown out of. How wrong I was!

If you want to criticize me, you want to read my actual words. Where do I once claim unhappiness or suffering? What I'm saying is that without gear I'm fractured. I don't add up. I feel like a jigsaw with different pieces missing every day. I don't feel terrible, except when I'm depressed and I've been depressed for a few days but mildly enough to act my way out of the blank meaninglessness of it all. If that sounds self-dramatizing then you don't know depression. Figures vary but it's believed only one person in twenty ever becomes clinically depressed to a moderate or severe degree, so if you're one of the 95% who never experience this please don't judge me, you have no idea how it feels to be so incapacitated you can barely move your body, let alone think clearly, make rational decisions or lead any kind of meaningful life. I've been lucky, these severe spells have been mercifully brief. And I'm grateful to them for removing the desire to use, the desire to commit suicide (nearly all depressed people feel suicidal, and those who don't tend to obsess about death). Depression is a dreadful state to be in. I'm not claiming to be at the extremes. My principal problem as I see it now is one of ongoing heroin addiction.

Yes I did score. At 4:30am I telephoned my best three dealers in descending order of preference. Mr Idiot man ignored my call. Mr Orange Juice Gear With Black Bits On Top was fast asleep, Mr formerly the most generous dealer on the block, knocking out 0.6, 0.7, 0.8g for £20 pre-drought met me at 5am at the bottom of his road.
£15 changed hands for 0.4g of brown. I cooked the entire lot up and fixed it all at once, miraculously locating an active vein in my right arm. So I've used yet again, but I'm still wide awake. All the way there I was obsessing about whether or not to ask for "one and one" that is one gear, one crack because I used to love crack so very much and as I say if I can destabilize my mind I know from experience I won't want heroin any more. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Just thinking over what I put makes me feel very sad. That I'd be willing to jeapordize my sanity. Sanity, which is something to be prized. Just for the sake of escaping this terrible addiction that has eaten me alive all these years. So yeah, maybe I am self-pitying. But if I don't pity myself, who else will. If I don't pity myself, don't respect myself, don't love myself enough, I'll never break free of this destructive cycle that has become the only way of life I know. Only I can help myself. And that's the problem. I just don't know how to do that.

If anyone has any ideas, please let me know. Meanwhile it's 8:58. I've been tapping this for an hour and three quarters. I hope I'm making sense. Please no judgemental comments I'm not up to handling them today.
I need constructive advice. I want to know what I can do. Can anybody help me help myself. Yes I know it's all down to me that's what's so frightening. My life is like a truck ride with a three year old child at the wheels.

But I'm a 38 year old man. In not too long I'll be 39. That 3-year-old is only an aspect of me. An "avatar" as they might like to say these days. It's up to me to take back control, to do what I have to do. That's what I've longed for, for such a long time.

To be able to know that for once in my life I am Doing The Right Thing. So there you have it. That's what I want. I just wish I knew how to get it...

Illustrated: Mongolian lady outside her yurt; pet tubby Syrian hamster; highly social, pingponball-sized roborovski hamsters rambling together on wheel; Syrian hamster in "wild" (ie probably somebody's back garden!); getting caned in Malaysia doesn't mean taking loads of really good gear it means being beaten on the bum with a soggy broom handle ~ they should bring this to the UK for dealers who sell rubbishy heroin; yummy Chinese food; mobile phone; depression ~ in in the eye of the sufferer; toking on a crack bottle (exactly the same type I used to use); prison ~ way out required.

AUSTEN POWERS: HARD KNOCK LIFE
Anthem to my existence in all its absurdity...

Dreaming of a China White Christmas

***THIS is a bit of a mixed-bag.***
It starts with facts regarding World Heroin Production and how Britain relies on Afghanistan to provide our 30 tonnes+ annual heroin consumption and how arranging alternative supply-lines is easier said than done.

I then launch into a pro-Heroin-Assisted-Treatment, antimethadone critique of British prescribing practice to addicts one of (my favourite subjects to rant on).
I then apply the barely-existent treatment options mentioned to my own life and ask what else could I do, apart from what I'm already doing now...

IF ANYBODY HAS BETTER FACTS, NEWER IDEAS, FINE LINKS OR ANYTHING HELPFUL OR CRITICAL, DON'T HOLD BACK. PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT. BE AS DETAILED AS YOU LIKE. ALL OPINIONS ARE WELCOME.

MANY THANKS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YOU ALL XXX

IN ANSWER to some of the drought comments I got, I've dug out some facts regarding world heroin and opium cultivation and consumption. You'll notice from the information up top that Europe consumes more than four times as much heroin as North America.

Several commenters have wondered why Colombia, upon which the Eastern United States rely almost exclusively for their supply, doesn't ship their lovely #4 white heroin to the drought-ridden UK I can give you an answer.

Of course it is quite possible that Colombian heroin might find its way here in small amounts. But Colombia produces only 5-10 tonnes of heroin per year, enough to suffice for America's Eastern seaboard, but nowhere near enough to satisfy the UK's pre-drought consumption of 30-35 tonnes of heroin per year. 35 tonnes would be the entire annual production of Burma. (Burma produced 345 tonnes opium in 2009, equivalent to just under 35 tonnes of China White heroin.)

Alternative sources of supply to the UK could easily take two years or more to arrange. Last week I was talking to a retired dealer to used to serve my local area when it was the norm for addicts to score from other addicts. This person knows a lot about how the heroin trade actually works. I was told categorically that the time lapse between harvest in Afghanistan and heroin bags on Britain's streets is at least a year to eighteen months.

The government know they could smash the heroin trade by prescribing pharmaceutical heroin to addicts. Switzerland is the only country to have implemented diamorphine therapy as a first-line treatment. Now Switzerland, once notorious for its "needle parks" and a centrepoint for drug tourism, has some of the lowest rates of heroin use in Europe.

Pharmaceutical heroin is widely used in the UK as pain relief. Many family doctors carry diamorphine amps in their medical bags. But contrary to certain reports, diamorphine is prescribed only rarely to addicts in the UK. Estimates state that only 400-800 addicts receive diamorphine therapy in this country. The latest experimental scheme, RIOTT, trialled injectable diamorphine against injectable methadone and oral methadone. Not surprisingly the success rate of oral methadone was dire. Injectable methadone did better. Injectable diamorphine did best of all, with an 80% reduction in illicit drug use among those prescribed this treatment.

It is easy to test for illicit opiates against pharmaceutical grade heroin, so cheating is not possible. Any use of street heroin on top of a diamorphine prescription is easily flagged up by a simple urine test.

Different countries have implemented diamorphine prescription in different ways. In Switzerland, the Diaphin diamorphine is premixed to a strength of 100mg/1ml, handed to the patient in a syringe and injected in the presence of a trained nurse. A similar system was trialled in Holland. In the UK, patients are eventually allowed to take home their diamorphine prescription (usually in 100mg and 30mg dry amps). They can then fit the prescribed drug into their lives as most convenient (e.g. directly before or after food, at bedtime, immediately on waking and so on: the times addicts most like to use). They can also mix the hit to the strength and dilution that suits them best.

Presciption-wise, the Netherlands have been the most forward-thinking, issuing not only injectable heroin hydrochloride to needle-wielding addicts, but pharmaceutical-grade smokeable heroin base to addicts who chased their dose from tinfoil. Caffeine was added to the white heroin base to make it run more easily over the foil.

Another treatment used in the Netherlands yet barely heard of elsewhere is an oral therapy that has been shown to help addicts with a needle-fixation (like I had/have). Detxtromoramide (better known as Palfium) was issued to addicts in Holland who were receiving oral methadone doses, but proved unable to give up injecting street heroin on top. Palfium syrup (or noninjectable pills) work quickly and effectively by mouth. Knocking back a dose has a similar effect to slamming back alcohol. Within minutes a "hit" is felt. A degree of willingness plus a prescription for Palfium could help thousands of addicts in Britain and elsewhere to make that final step of stopping using on top of methadone. If only our governments were a little more open-minded years and years of suffering could be brought to an end within months.

Of course the Government will not listen. The "experts" who have trawled medical papers, compared clinical trials and yet may never have popped an opiate in their lives, much less lived through years of addiction... these get a full hearing. While the true experts, the addicts on the street, who can vouch first hand how ineffectual at quashing drug-cravings oral methadone actually is ~ are dismissed as whingeing, deceptive junkies who'd say anything to get a free high.

Well drug addiction IS (among many other things) about getting high. Take an addict's high from them, and they'll use something else that WILL give that missing high. This "high" gets addicts out of the door and to appointments. It gets them to eat, to sleep. The high helps them engage with their children, spend quality time and play games they might not ordinarily want to play. So get out of your head the idea of selfish pleasure-seeking. The opiate high is what addicts need to function. Without that high you have a methadone-state. No physical withdrawal (provided the dose is right) but no energy, no enthusiasm either. A mood that's flat at best, severely depressed at worst. It's methadone's extreme unsuitability as a long-term treatment that leads addicts to the typical on-methadone pattern of behaviour where they give up raising heroin-money and reduce heroin sharply, yet in no way give it up. This is the best that methadone does. At its worst it merely exacerbates physical dependency. The addict drinks it, because they're forced to under legal duress, having been caught too many times shoplifting (or whatever). And they carry on precisely as before: piping, piping, piping crack (and methadone does nothing for crack addiction), drinking, popping downers and still using heroin ~ perhaps slightly less.

I've seen pensioners ~ on methadone for years ~ for whom Money Day is the highlight of the week. The Dealer comes round and hands out bags of magic B* that really does work, and does make them OK for the one or two days of the week they can afford it. The rest of the week they live a morose half-life. Heroin days are the only days anything gets done. A life on methadone is no life. I cannot see myself ever being OK on methadone, hence my reliance on temazepam and drink to be OK. On methadone alone I have all the symptoms of depression: excessive sleep, low mood, lack of interest in anything much, low self-esteem, fatigue, slowed thought process and a generalized misery unrelated to any particular issue or event.

The sooner I can get off this syrupy rubbish the better. My experience with antidepressants has been disastrous. My last reaction to mirtazapine was so extreme ~ involving not sleeping for days on end, pinging about everywhere for a week all disinhibited so people assumed I was drunk and on crack when it was just this antidepressant... then I crashed BADLY and got so low I felt my life was over. On one of my lowest days I scored heroin, not because I wanted it but only because I didn't know what else to do. I opened it and stared at it forlornly for hours, not wanting it, not wanting not to take it either. When I did eventually take it, heroin was no help.

This is why I feel I need psychiatric help. I'm not claiming to suffer any more than any other addict. All addicts suffer. I have a sense that something is going on with me that is undiagnosed and untreated. When I'm asked to name my problem on Government forms I don't know what to put any more. No psychiatrist is ever going to be my saviour, I know that. But I would appreciate the insight of someone who recognizes a constellation of experience and might say to me "this is the issue, this is what you can do about it".

So for me, it's no drugs. That's my prescribed therapy. No drugs, no drink. I'm not exactly flourishing on the no drink. Life hurts me too much not to be in a haze, so I don't know how I'm going to do it.

My current plan is to physically tidy myself and my house up. Then I'll pull the plug on alcohol and all these pills. And if life is so very unbearable that I just want to die, I'm going in the nuthouse. That's the only place left for me to go.

I'm fine today because I've had an extra special Xmas methadone dose, an extra special Xmas temazepam dose and a half-bottle of Caramel Baileys. So I'm in a pleasant fog of indifference. Without this pharmaceutical mist, I don't know how I will survive. But I'm determined to do it, no matter how much it hurts. I don't even care about losing my sanity. When I lost it three weeks ago it wasn't as frightening as you'd imagine. Your terror of insanity is the terror of a sane person. I was insane and hence not scared. When I first began to hear voices I found them hilariously funny. In fact I spent most of my time in the manic whirlwind laughing, singing and writing crap online. You can make the best of any situation. And that's what I've endeavoured to do my entire life through. Turn sour old lemons into refreshing lemonade. To make the best of a bad lot.

One day I hope to look back on this extended period of time-wasting and see no more than a bad memory from a past life. A life that's barely worth remembering, except as a cautionary tale for others. For if I can turn into a raving smackhead, literally anybody can. Heroin does not respect so-called boundaries of class or race, intelligence or social background. I'm by no means posh, but I did not come from a deprived housing estate. None of my friends or neighbours or family ever used heroin. I came to heroin through a mixture of fascination with a fair measure of death-wish thrown in. I came to it late (only got addicted at 28). But once it did get me, I knew I was well and truly got. Hook, line and sinker, it had me. No escape. And no way out. Heroin was the only thing that made life worthwhile. The only thing that made life made sense.

Every day without heroin or my substitution drink and pills on top of methadone is a day out in the cold, where life is fractured and senseless. And it hurts. I know I've said this before. I'm writing not to convince you of anything, but to convince myself that I can Do It. There is no Easy Way, I know that. If anybody has an Answer they think might help, I'd love to hear it. As things stand I'm plodding on as planned. And I will not be shaken or moved. I'll keep on trudging no matter how tired I get. I know life isn't meant to be fun. Life is a struggle. At least by struggling I'll know I'm Living.

My one Dream is that one day I might wake up somewhere sunny and safe and realize at last that I'm now a thousand miles away from where I used to be. That I finally have broken free. And that I'm never ever going back There. Where I never belonged, but nearly drowned.

I want Freedom.


*B is short for Brown. "Brown Sugar" base heroin from Afghanistan and other countries in the so-called Golden Crescent
**Re the UN's 2007 Opium Cultivation table, bear in mind that judging opium production per hectare without specialist knowledge can be deceptive. Specialists say Afghanistan's richer soil and superior irrigation infrastructure produce per-hectare opium yields more than double those of Burma ...


PS: I'm on Gabbly now (from about 5pm London time; that is about 9am Pacific, midday Eastern, 6pm Central European and about 3am most of Australia). Gabbly is my live chat box, towards the top of the sidebar, between the Double UO Globe symbol and the rotating molecule. Every new visitor here sets off a doorbell chime. Anyone who's up for a chat say Hi. If you don't get a response keep Dmmmm-Dmmm-Dmmming that thing and WAKE ME UP!




HM the Queen's Xmas Message 2010

The Queen's speech comes on BBC1 and ITV (the 2 major channels) at 3pm Xmas day.


This year she talks about the King James ("Authorized") translation of the Bible which is now four centuries old.


Plus the benefits of sport.


The Queen's Speech isn't exactly the most exciting broadcast of the year, but I, among millions of others, watch it, as much for the novelty of the Queen talking to me as anything else ...



It's 02:27 and I've just woken up having dreamed I was posting. See I'm in a chair with the computer in front of me, dreaming about posting and commenting on my blog. Got blogs on the brain, me!

As a pancake ...

I COULD HAVE CALLED THIS POST MISERYGUTS but y'all know that's who I am (at least half the time). FLAT AS A PANCAKE. Yeah. I blame Sunday, the Sunday blues not wearing off. I'm supposed not to be drinking but I can't do without drink. I need a Valium or two. I haven't taken Valium in weeks, so it might work. Then again Valium is for anxiety and I don't feel anxious. I feel depressed. I would score gear but do not trust it any more. And I'm not sullying my body with anything less than A grade China White*, that's what I'm telling the dealers. (Not that China White felt any different from decent B, it just doesn't sting my collapsing veins.) Now I'm left without gear but with the pointless bleak emptiness of it all.

Snow and ice is all over the news. It's snowy outside but not too slippery. It's not cold here. One good thing about shivering is, it's supposed to make you lose the flab (I once heard). I have gone off food, it's a waste of time. I bought two carrier bags full. Mince pies. Cornish ice cream. Pasta. Broccoli. I shoved it in the fridge/freezer.

The only good thing about today was sleeping through most of it till 3:30pm. Got up at 4. I wish I could sleep 24 hours. If I'd lived in Victorian times I'd never have been on heroin and I'd hopefully have died of some infectious disease. When I was homeless I thought that was the most natural way of living: in darkness, squalor and cold. Somehow I never managed to adapt to living in a house again, I never got myself together. Don't know why.

All this hypocritical crap about Xmas is on TV. I hate Xmas. Absolute waste of time. The only good thing about Xmas was having an eighth of gear to get through by boxing day.

Heroin never made me happy.

The drugs don't work.

*Number four heroin, often called China White no matter what its origin (Burma, Colombia or Afghanistan (yes it is produced there), is very rare here. More common was a type of white rock gear called white heroin base, an intermediate product between Brown smoking base and injection quality white heroin hydrochloride. I don't really want China White. And I meant "telling" in the future tense. I haven't spoken to any dealer since I stopped. I just love being bloody-minded.